


Kinda Like a Taylor Swift Song

by lemonsorbae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Grocery Store, Alternate Universe - High School, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 20:40:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3354578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonsorbae/pseuds/lemonsorbae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything was fine, and then Castiel walked into his life and now somehow Dean's life ended up kinda like a Taylor Swift song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kinda Like a Taylor Swift Song

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: Dean and Cas both crushing on each other, but finally getting the courage to tell each other on Valentine’s Day.

Working on Valentine’s Day kinda sucks, but it’s not as bad as working on Thanksgiving or Christmas. And it’s not like Dean has anyone special to spend it with anyway. In fact, the one person he’d want to spend it with is already standing next to him, bagging groceries with quick deft hands, and an expression better suited for a challenging crossword puzzle than a grocery store.

Castiel.

He started working at the same grocery store as Dean about three months ago. He’s quiet, frowns more than anyone Dean’s ever met, and talks about the weirdest shit in the universe when he does get around to talking. Seriously, stars, and honeybees, and how much better green tea is than earl grey; that’s the kind of crap the guy goes on about.

At first Dean had wondered if Castiel grew up in a hole or something; he doesn’t understand any pop culture references, he has no people skills whatsoever, and he talks like every word is important. But after about a week, all of Castiel’s weird quirks became less weird and more…  _cute_. (Let it be known Dean Winchester has never actually used that word in conjunction with a human being before.)

There’s just something about the guy that had drew Dean in and turned him into a sputtering, nervous, pink-cheeked wreck whenever Castiel was in close vicinity to Dean. Which, because Castiel is  _Dean’s_  bagger, is all the freaking time.

"Have a good night," Dean tells the woman standing at his check out. She’s probably in her mid-twenties, she isn’t wearing a wedding ring, and all she purchased is ice cream and  _Cosmopolitan_  magazine. She’s most likely spending the night alone. He offers her a wink for good measure and smiles triumphantly when she blushes ever so slightly and hurries off.

"You’re very good with the customers," Castiel states as he watches the woman’s retreating form. He says it like it’s the conclusion to a scientific observation.

Dean lets out a laugh, bumping Castiel’s shoulder with his own. “Maybe if you weren’t frowning all the damn time.” He points out.

"I am not frowning all the time, I’m just thinking."

"You sure do a lot of thinking," Dean replies.

Castiel opens his mouth to respond, but another patron, an elderly woman, is emptying the contents of her cart on Dean’s counter, and they avert their attention to her.

"You sure do have pretty eyes," the woman says as Dean rings up her cat food. The comment is directed at Castiel, and as he realizes this he blushes, muttering a quiet thank you that sends Dean’s lips spreading into a smile.

"Doesn’t he?" Dean agrees, shooting Castiel a teasing smirk. The words come out sounding like a joke, as Dean intends them to, but in reality Dean’s stomach is in frenzied knots because yeah Castiel has  _great_  eyes, but this is the closest Dean’s ever come to admitting he’s noticed.

Castiel shakes his head and bags up the cat food placed before him.

"You boys have a good night," the woman says as Castiel places her grocery bags into her waiting arms.

"So you got any plans tonight?" Dean questions. He folds his arms across his chest, going for nonchalance, but really he feels like if Castiel says  _yes_ , his heart might shatter into a million tiny pieces and then it will be clean up on aisle 12, and Dean’s suspicions about life being against him will be confirmed.

"No," Castiel answers with a sigh. "I’ve never really understood the point of Valentine’s Day."

Dean scoffs. “You’re like a walking encyclopedia; you mean to tell me you don’t know anything about St. Valentine?” He asks.

Castiel frowns, a soft vee forming between his eye brows that Dean wants to reach out and smooth with his thumb. “I know  _about_  the holiday, Dean, I just don’t see the logistics.”  

"Not everything is about logic, Cas. Sometimes stuff is just about," Dean shrugs, "stuff."

"Like Valentine’s Day," Castiel offers.

Dean nods. “Yeah, like Valentine’s Day. It’s kinda just about being with someone you care about, you know? All the flowers, and chocolates, and all that other shit is just about commercial revenue. But the day itself is kinda-” Dean stops himself, realizing he’s defending  _Valentine’s Day_. “Forget it.” He mutters.

Castiel is smiling, soft and knowing, and it’s kind of the most amazing thing Dean’s ever seen, but for some reason he just can’t actually come to terms with putting that into words. “You’re a romantic.” Castiel observes.

Horror rises in Dean’s chest. “What? No, I’m not-” he sputters, “I’m not into all that shit. I was just saying, you know, sometimes it’s cool to be with someone you care about or whatever.”

The smile is still there, a gentle curve of perfectly bowed lips that Dean really wants to kiss until his mouth knows the shape of by heart. But Dean can’t read that smile and it unnerves him.

"Cut it out," Dean grumbles. He’s blushing now, and that’s just the icing on the whole freaking cake isn’t it?

"Dean," Castiel practically coos. He reaches out a hand, curls those long, glorious fingers around Dean’s arm and squeezes. His touch is warm, strong. "I’m not making fun of you. I think it’s sweet. You’d probably make someone feel very special on Valentine’s Day."

Dean shoves his hands in the pockets of the bright blue vests all the employees have to wear. Castiel, of course, looks amazing in his, the color of the vest just the right shade to make his eyes pop, but Dean looks about as ridiculous in his as he feels right now. “You don’t have to humor me, Cas.”

"Dean, am I the sort of person that would humor you?"

Dean allows a smile, the uncomfortable squeeze on his gut loosening just a little. “No,” he admits.

Castiel nods once, satisfied he’s proved his point, and the conversation is over.

When the store closes for the night the sky is a cloudy coal black, only a handful of stars littering its endless expanse. The air is brisk, every exhale coming out as a puff of icy breath, and Dean’s nose and ears are almost instantly frozen.  

"You wanna a ride home?" Dean asks when he notices Castiel fumbling with the padlock on his bike. "Trunk’s big enough for the bike."

Castiel pauses for only a beat before standing and meeting Dean’s gaze. “You wouldn’t mind?” He questions.

Dean waves a hand in the air, “Nah. It’s too cold to be riding around at night like this, you’ll get sick. And then who’s gonna bag my groceries?”

Castiel’s lips give a faint quirk. “I wouldn’t dream of letting anyone else touch your groceries, Dean.”

Dean lets out a laugh. “Then it’s settled. Let’s get your bike in the back.”

Castiel doesn’t live far from the grocery store. He may have even gotten home faster riding his bike, what with all the red lights Dean has to stop at, but he doesn’t complain, and for a second Dean permits himself to think that maybe Castiel accepted a ride home because he wanted to be with Dean. But then that almost seems absurd and the thought is banished nearly as swiftly as it had come.

"Nice place," Dean comments when they pull up in front of Castiel’s two-story home. The house is done up in blue siding, and perfectly trimmed hedges, and it almost looks like something out of a television show or something; there’s even an honest to God white picket fence out front.

"Thank you."

They maneuver Castiel’s bike out of Dean’s trunk and Dean follows Castiel up the driveway where he leans the bicycle up against the garage door. “I’ll get it in a minute.” Castiel explains.

Dean follows him to the door, and for a minute it’s quiet. Dean’s not sure what the hell he’s doing here, or why he even followed Castiel up to the house in the first place, but he reasons it’s probably because wherever Castiel is, he wants to be too. Suddenly Dean feels eerily like he’s one of the chicks in a Taylor Swift song. Not that Dean’s ever listened to Taylor Swift…

"So uh, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then," Dean finally says, shifting on his feet. He feels like an idiot because Castiel probably just wanted a ride home so he didn’t have to bike in the cold and here Dean is fidgeting on his doorstep.

Castiel nods at Dean, blinking up at him with this determined look in his eyes that Dean wants to pick apart, but doesn’t.

Neither of them speaks.

Thinking that’s his queue to leave, Dean turns to step off the porch and leave Castiel standing in the pool of orange light pouring down from the porch lamp, but then there’s a hand on his arm, and Castiel is almost shouting at him, “I like you!”

Dean chokes on nothing, turning back around in a slow swivel as he tries to give himself time to process what just happened. “What?” Dean croaks, because there’s no way Castiel just said what Dean thinks Castiel just said.

Castiel swallows hard. He looks like he’s about to be ruined forever, but he repeats the words anyway. “I like you.” His voice is shaky this time, like he’s offering Dean his heart, but worries Dean won’t know what to do with it.

"You like me?" Dean asks because maybe if he hears the words one more time, they’ll actually sink in.

Castiel nods, hanging his head. His face is twisted into something that looks strikingly reminiscent of a kicked puppy, and Dean’s brain finally starts to accept what Cas is trying to tell him.

"You like me as in,  _hey cool pal, you know a lot about science fiction shit and I find that really interesting_ , or as in if I kissed you right here on this doorstep you’d be totally into it?” Dean’s grin is broad as Castiel’s eyes come to meet his, and Castiel smiles almost just as wide.

"I’d be into it." He answers, pulling Dean in by the lapels of his jacket and pressing his cold chapped lips against Dean’s. " _Really_  into it,” He breathes after a few glorious moments of kissing.

"Yeah, okay." Dean murmurs. His hands find Castiel’s hips as their mouths come together again. "I’m really into it too."


End file.
